


Welcome to the Jungle

by Caffiend



Series: Dark Avengers: post apocalypse [2]
Category: Bucky Barnes Fandom, Captain America Fandom, Steve Rogers Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers babies, Captain kink, Daddy Kink, Dom Steve Rogers, Eugenics, Explicit Sex, F/M, Forced Marriage, Multi, Polyamory, Pregnancy Kink, Protective Bucky Barnes, Strong Female Characters, Top Steve Rogers, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, avengers compount, breeder kink, guns and roses, post apocalpytic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:55:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23113549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiend/pseuds/Caffiend
Summary: This is the epilogue to "Don't Make a Sound," for anyone who wondered what happened with Marina after Dark!Steve and Dark!Bucky show her what they really want from her...
Relationships: Bucky Barnes/OFC, Steve Roger/OFC
Series: Dark Avengers: post apocalypse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661425
Comments: 50
Kudos: 104





	Welcome to the Jungle

**Author's Note:**

> My sincere apologies for not answering your wonderful comments on my other stories. I’ve been in A03 jail for a laundry list of crimes that it had to have taken hours for some super helpful “anonymous” source to compile. I promise to answer each and every one!
> 
> 18+ only, please. Please heed the tags. You are responsible for your reading choices.

Your head was tilting back in lazy pleasure as a pair of lips accompanied by the soft scratch of a beard traveled up your spine.

“Captain…” you moaned.

“Mmmm, hmmm,” the agreement made his mouth vibrate along your spine and you shivered. A wonderfully warm pair of hands cupped your breasts, long fingers easily encompassing their softness. 

“Daddy…” your voice pitched higher as he squeezed them, running your nipples between two fingers and pulling gently. 

“Yeah, baby, I got you.” Bucky’s tone was calm, almost reverent, and it still surprised you to find that the hardened veteran of decades of Hydra-based brutality was the more gentle of your husbands.

Husbands. 

That’s what Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes insisted on calling themselves, each wearing a wedding ring. They’d had a ring with gold and platinum twisted together to put on your finger in a little ceremony at the Avenger’s compound. At the time, you were furious with both of them and not at all in the mood for their ridiculous charade of ‘Til death do us part.’ On the bright side, given the current state of the world, that might not be too long.

But as Steve took your earlobe between his even white teeth and pulled, you groaned. “Captain, c’mon. Please don’t tease me tonight.” 

Your “husbands” had been out on reconnaissance together for a week, and you were mildly disgusted with yourself for missing them. Steve and Bucky always tried to make sure one of them was here at the compound with you. So having them both gone had been jarring. And the sudden lack of orgasms didn’t help your sour mood. 

“Teasing our girl?” Bucky scoffed, “Hell, we were the ones hard for seven straight days because we couldn’t jerk off.” His head was somewhere near your navel, long brown hair spread over you. “We had to save it for you, doll.”

“Oh, you romantic,” you teased, “my Daddy, the sweet talk- OH!” Bucky punished you sassiness by fastening those full lips of his around your clitoris and sucking, humming in a pleased way as your hands flew to his hair. A thick, calloused finger stroked up inside you, making your thighs tighten around his head.

Steve’s hands took over toying with your breasts. “Bad girl,” he said, pulling on your nipples and enjoying your startled gasp. “We’re gone a week and you’ve already turned into a smartass?” Your head was mindlessly pressed against his collarbone, all of you surrounded by thick muscle. He pinched them and you yelped. “Answer your Captain.”

“M- maybe I’m just really distracted at the moment, Captain, it’s- oh, god…” Your hand flew up to grab blindly at Steve’s shoulder when Bucky shook his head back and forth, growling like a wolf with your clit still sucked between his lips.

Moving behind you so that your sweaty back was resting against that stupidly broad chest of his, Steve groaned, watching Bucky as he held his legs apart for your other “husband” to take you apart as he watched. “So pretty, doll. Such a pretty girl.”

Walking bowlegged the next day was infuriating, but you were cock-drunk enough to ignore the little grins as you limped past them to make breakfast. “Ah, no baby, just sit down.” Bucky was already taking your hand and seating you in front of a full plate. 

Your brow rose. “Pancakes with fresh blueberries? Where on earth are you getting those?”

“We can find anything our good girl needs,” Steve was looking through some data on an iPad, but his navy blue eyes lifted to give you a wink, enjoying the flush that rose on your cheeks.

“Why are both of you home?” you asked, carefully cutting a corner off your pancakes. Even in the Avenger’s compound, such a treat was rare, and must be savored accordingly. You watched the two share a look with that irritating silent communication of theirs.

Bucky turned off the stove, leaning against the counter. “There’s a problem,” he said, still staring at Steve.

You made a “c’mon” gesture with your fork, still chewing.

Steve put his chin on your shoulder, his beard tickling your neck. “There’s a horde too close to the compound. It’s all hands on deck while we work out a plan.”

Trying to ignore the way he was kissing up your neck and failing, you gave a little sigh. “The usual misdirection tactics aren’t working?”

No one was certain why, but the undead had a way of gathering together, shuffling in a mindless, mob mentality until destroyed or redirected. The compound’s forces were focused on keeping as many swarms of the rotting bodies away as possible. No matter how well-defended the fortress was, anything could be breached with the right amount of force. 

Bucky grunted, sitting down next to you and focusing his attention on your bare shoulder. “We’ve been pretty busy with bringing in refugees.”

Your eyes narrowed. New breeders, they meant - _‘New people!’_ you scolded yourself, remembering the way Natasha had dismissed you as a “breeder,” not even important enough to merit a name. But it didn’t change the fact that who they brought back were children, along with healthy, child-bearing age women and those with a useful skill, like the two midwives who came in the last month. While you were not yet in need of their services, it wasn’t because these two hadn’t been trying. All the goddamn time. And making certain you enjoyed every minute of it.

The truth was, you were terrified you’d get pregnant. You’d picked up a leadership position - sort of - in the compound, negotiating differences between so many new people, helping them get settled and addressing all the complexities of building a new population. And the Avengers seemed happy to let you do it. Once you were pregnant, you would … just be a breeder.

“How, uh …” your eyes closed as Bucky ran his teeth lightly over the surface of your throat. “How many? Howwww Bucky! Please, I’m trying to concentrate here! Ohhhh…” And it was over, Steve’s track pants were pulled down and you were straddled over him and he was holding that gigantic cock of his, guiding you down it.

“Hey Miz Marina, how are you this fine morning?”

You shook off your sex hangover and tried to focus. Marco was loping alongside you and you slowed down long enough to wrap an arm around his shoulders. “I’m good, brother. And you?”

“Good, thank you. You look really nice.”

You raised a brow, looking down at your jeans and tank top. You weren’t even wearing shoes and the mocking phrase “Barefoot and pregnant!” filtered through your brain. You’d worn power suits, for fuck’s sake! You had 10 cocktail dresses in your loft back in the city! And now you were barefoot and handling disputes about who got the bigger room and who needed maternity clothes? 

You forced yourself to smile at Marco. “How are the toddlers going?” His exaggerated groan was enough. With so many pregnant women in the compound, helping them find childcare for their surviving children was crucial. Carrying an Avenger’s baby - a fetus with who knew whatever genetic configuration given by their sire - was stressful enough. Big, goofy Marco came from a huge family, but walked through the compound gates alone, the last survivor of his siblings. 

“I have faith in you. I know it’s like … herding cats, or something.”

“Yeah?” he chuckled.

“Truth!” You were warming to your pep talk. “I was a camp counselor one summer, and I’m telling you-” You fell silent as Natasha passed you, tenderly holding on to the diapered bottom of a newborn in a baby sling. She wore the serene smile of a red-headed Madonna, but you pressed your lips together. The only female Avenger had claimed the first baby born with the enhanced genes from the enforced donors, somehow convincing the dazed mother that it was an “honor” to give her child up to the Russian. You _hated_ this part of your life. Fucking _hated_ it. And if you weren’t “married” to Steve and Bucky, would this group of super-enhanced eugenists have taken your baby, too? 

Later that afternoon, you were assembling a group of the smaller children and forcing them to pay attention to the nervous young woman who’d be teaching them how to read when the siren blared through the hall.

 _‘Oh, shit!’_ you moaned internally. The siren _never_ sounded. Everyone knew it meant the direst of emergencies, but the compound seemed so invulnerable! “Danielle!” you said sharply to the teacher who’d gone sheet-white. “You know the drill. Get them into the Vault.” The Vault was the safest area in the massive building, the lab section where everything locked down with titanium bolted doors. She nodded, terrified but resolute and started herding the children in the direction of the labs. Speaking down into your lapel mic as you sprinted down the hall, you gasped out, “Steve? Bucky? Where are you?”

It was your nightmares come true. Broken, static-riddled snatches of speech. “…bigger than-”

“Get kids-”

“Surroun- try to- It’s-”

“Fuck!” you hissed, racing past Dr. Banner, who was urging a stream of frightened, pregnant women into the lab. 

You ignored him when he called out to you. “Marina! Get in here! They’ll kill me if you get hurt!”

When you finally hit the courtyard, you stumbled to a stop. The heavily barricaded perimeter was gone, and the deaders were… Fuck. They were _everywhere_. Looking frantically over the sea of moaning, rotting flesh, you tried to find Steve and Bucky. When you finally spotted Steve’s blond head, towering over the others, your heart stopped.

He and Bucky were in the center of a cluster of the undead, Bucky shooting each one in the head with precision, face grim. Your men were standing between the rotting corpses and a huddle of sobbing children. They were both covered in blood - the black ichor of the monsters and bright red from cuts and wounds of their own.

It hit you in the middle of your furious, terrified panting that the only thing you could hear was screaming and gunfire. That the defense you and Bucky had put in place for the unthinkable - that the compound’s walls could be breached - was not in play. No one had activated the sound and light show. There were several of the Avengers out and battling the tidal wave of monsters - Sam up on his wings and soaring over the horde with gunfire and strategically placed explosives. Natasha whirling like the ballerina she was with an AK47 in one hand and a gigantic-ass knife in the other. Clint firing off arrows with explosive tips with a mechanical precision. Small groups of men and women trained in combat, back to back. But they were falling as the sheer number of the undead swarmed them. Firing short, controlled bursts at the closest of the undead, you sprinted for one of the touch-sensitive pads near the main entrance, frantically typing in your code and the series of numbers and symbols that suddenly sent a furious shriek of static through the exterior speakers to the north of the compound, and then, the howling beginning to one of your favorite songs. Giggling without really being aware of it, you slammed a new clip into your handgun.

_Welcome to the jungle, we’ve got fun and games_

_We got everything you want honey, we know the names_

_We are the people that can find whatever you may need_

_If you got the money, honey we got your disease_

_Jungle, welcome to the jungle_

_Watch it bring you to your shun n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n knees, knees_

_Uh I, I wanna watch you bleed_

The light show seared your corneas, and you hastily looked away before it blinded you. The massive bank of lights flared to life, violently pulsating in the rhythm of Slash’s guitar riffs as Axl’s Rose’s high-pitched shriek soared over the compound. 

_Welcome to the jungle, we take it day by day_

_If you want it you’re gonna bleed but it’s the price to pay_

_And you’re a very sexy girl, very hard to please_

_You can taste the bright lights, but you won’t get there for free_

_In the jungle, welcome to the jungle_

_Feel my, my, my serpentine_

_Uh, I, I want to hear you scream_

The low, guttural moan of the undead rose in volume as the lifeless heads turned, almost in unison toward the sound, the lights making them sway mindlessly as they began moving in the direction of the bizarre siren’s call. Even the percussion of the gunfire wasn’t enough to make them divert from the scream of guitar and hypnotic flare of lights from the far end of the compound. Away from the children. 

Away from your men. 

Firing at the stragglers, you waded through the swamp of body parts, intestines and gore, heading to the group.

_Welcome to the jungle, it gets worse here every day_

_You learn to live like an animal in the jungle where we play_

_If you got hunger for what you see, you’ll take it eventually_

_You can have everything you want but you better not take it from me_

_In the jungle, welcome to the jungle_

_Watch it bring you to your n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n knees, knees_

_Uh ah, I’m gonna watch you bleed_

Fortunately, the others defending the compound remembered the protocol and moved with the migration, firing behind them and urging the swarm of moving death into the pits waiting for them. And when the first flare of explosive flame shot up into the sky, you were nearly brought to your knees, remembering that night when your super soldiers set fire to your world. But this time, you didn’t feel the rage and futility the memory always brought you. By the time you reached them, Steve and Bucky were being literally climbed like trees - little ones clambering up their long bodies in a desperate attempt to get away from the manicured lawn that had turned into a soupy mess of blood.

And, as you expected, they both started yelling at you. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUTSIDE!” Steve thundered, patriotic blue eyes blazing with fury. 

Bucky was looking at you more speculatively, “Aw, doll. You’ve been naughty.” But he had a half-grin lingering around those full lips and you smiled at him first.

“Someone forgot that defense protocol we talked about, baby. I’m a little disappointed. I figured having _your_ stamp of approval would at least make it a priority.” You wanted to sass him a little longer, but suddenly his hand was holding on to your ponytail and his mouth was on yours. Your knees nearly gave out in relief. Bucky’s lips were so warm - so good… 

“Ewwwwww!” The whine from two of the little boys made you break apart, laughing at their grossed-out expressions.

“Let me get this straight,” Steve teased them, “a sea of deaders is nothing, but getting a kiss from our girl is making you sick?”

They both gave him a “Duh!” look and it almost made you cry. Some things didn’t change. Even in the After.

Watching Steve and Bucky tuck children under their arms as easily as you had file folders back in the day, you felt an odd tug, watching them carry the little ones back inside. They weren’t _their_ children, but … they were the compound’s children. They had a value you didn’t expect the Avengers to see, lacking their enhanced blood or shining with the potential of the new infants. But your men had risked their lives for these kids. You groaned silently. Fuckers. They were making you all … sentimental.

Steve was already preparing a punishment of epic proportions by the time you made it back to your suite. His blood-streaked jaw was tight, those massive, mutton-like fists were clenched. “What was our most important instruction, ‘Rina? What was your highest duty?”

You absently twisted your “wedding” ring as you pondered what to say. You knew Captain fucking America was building to something that likely involved a spanking. Not that you were completely opposed to Steve’s hand on your ass, but you were feeling dangerously soft. “I know you’re mad that I didn’t stay inside. But I need … to be with you two tonight. I nearly lost you today. Both of you.”

“Aw, babe,” Bucky was somehow behind you and you jumped a little. Goddamn his silent stalking! “You would miss us, admit it.” You narrowed your eyes at his grin.

“Maybe, like … a little,” you agreed sullenly. But it was enough, and Steve’s jaw had unclenched enough to pull off your shirt and draw you into the shower with them.

How could a human form be so perfect? Even having been with these men, over and over you were constantly amazed at their beauty. Carefully running your soapy hands down Bucky’s chiseled abdomen, you sighed in appreciation, watching the muscles draw in as you stroked over them. Steve’s arms were wrapped around you from behind, and you licked down one huge bicep. Soaping up again, you gave him a little wink when you reached for his cock, already hard and tight against his flat stomach, but he gently held your wrist. 

“In bed, doll. We want you stretched out with all that pretty hair flowing over the pillow.”

Sighing, you pulled your lips from his. “Okay, be right there.” When the bathroom door shut and you heard the low buzz of conversation between them, you reached in between the vanity and the wall, pulling out a little plastic disc. The one thing that was illegal in this new world. The person who’d supplied you would have been brutally murdered if they’d been caught. Turning it over in your hands, you shuddered. If they ever caught you… But if you threw away the birth control pills, it was your choice. Maybe one of the few choices you had left in this asshole macho world. So when you flushed the toilet and watched the little orange pills disappear, you sucked in an anxious breath. 

Your choice this time.

There was a moment when you could no longer quite tell who was touching you, whose mouth was kissing yours. Between the two of them and their eerie synchronicity, they had a way of making your brain detach from reality.

“So pretty, doll-”

“-need to fuck you-”

“Our best girl-”

When you were rolled to your side, you could tell the Winter Soldier was behind you - he always started spouting Russian when he was really aroused. Lifting your thigh, he slid his underneath, sliding his hard shaft along your center, slipping between your nether lips with a slick little sound. “Так мило, моя кукла…” he crooned as his cock pushed up inside you, enjoying how your hand flailed out, gripping his ass.

You flushed, knowing Steve was watching you both closely, long fingers slowly stroking along his erection. “That feel good, baby?”

“Oh, g-!” Bucky had pulled out, then suddenly slammed back into you, enjoying your startled gasp.

“Is that a yes?” the blond chuckled, and you gripped his broad shoulder hard, digging your nails into the skin spitefully. But he groaned in arousal, just the way you knew he would. “Oh, ‘Rina,” he managed, “we’re going to fuck a baby into you tonight. Maybe two. Fill you so full of come, you’re gonna feel it drip from you for days.” Steve stopped your groan by putting his mouth over yours while his hand stroked Bucky’s long hair back from his face. “Yeah, Buck?”

There was a growl behind you, and you felt his hips slam into the soft globes of your ass faster, his pelvis sticky from you as his rough fingertips started circling your clit softly, light touches in contrast to the vicious pounding he was giving you. “Oh, there won’t be anything dripping from our girl,” he managed, his voice rough and low, guttural. “We’re going to drive so high up inside her that she’ll keep us in her womb, all snug and making a baby or two.” His hips sped up impossibly fast, and your back arched as Steve stroked your breasts. And when he pinched your nipples as Bucky pinched your clit, you gasped and came with a yowl that sounded embarrassingly like a cat’s.

Without a chance to catch your breath, they lifted you easily onto Steve’s cock, red and straining as he rolled on to his back. His hands were still on your breasts as Bucky knelt behind you, taking hold of your waist and moving you up and down on Steve’s shaft. Your head dropped back against his flexing shoulder when Steve’s even, white teeth flashed in the dark. “And these sweet girls,” he squeezed you, enjoying your little yelp, “all full of milk, swollen and nipples so hard, leaking milk? You’re gonna feed our babies, doll? Hmmm, ‘Rina?”

“Uh…” your ability to form full sentences had deserted you, and the only thing you were fully aware of was just how high this super soldier was inside you, his spongey tip hitting against the sensitive ring of your cervix, over and over. Each blow feeling like a little electrical charge and you shook. “If- oh- if you go any higher, you’re going to come out of my mouth!”

You could feel Bucky’s wide chest against your sweaty back, those big hands of his easily manipulating you up and down. The vibration of his chuckling. And then Steve’s hand was in your hair and he was pulling you down to kiss you as he came, two or three last, furious thrusts up and into you. Lying against his heaving chest, panting with him, you could still feel your other husband’s hands run along your back, massaging gently until his fingers slid between your buttocks, stroking along the strained flesh where Steve’s cock was still buried, still hard. You tried to sit up when you felt him carefully insert his calloused index finger up inside you, sliding along the heated surface of the Captain’s flesh. “Do you feel Daddy’s finger?” Bucky murmured, nibbling along your neck.

“Too much!” you moaned, “Daddy, that’s-”

“No, honey, that’s not too much,” he soothed, sliding it gently back and forth, then nipping your earlobe as he added his middle finger. “Your sweet little cunt can widen enough to bring a baby into the world. You’ll be amazed at how much you can handle.”

Steve’s hands were capturing your face and he kissed you. “Look at your Captain,” he grinned, a wholesome grin that still somehow looked filthy. “You can do this, honey. Our sweet girl. Our doll.” He watched your eyes widen alarmingly as Bucky added another finger, feeling you stretch almost impossibly wide to accommodate him. And then your Daddy straddled Steve’s long thighs and you felt his fingers slide from you to push the tip of his cock inside you instead. 

It _burned_. It burned and your legs shook and you moaned but he still slowly, carefully pushed his cock up alongside Steve’s. It couldn’t possibly fit - it shouldn’t! But they’d played with you for hours, coming and coming and coming again until you were so slick and wet that both of them were wedged inside you. Kissing your neck and back, Bucky waited until your rapid breathing slowed, your panting giving way to deeper breaths. “That’s our good girl,” he approved. And while Steve played with your breasts gently, he slid out to his tip, pushed back in as your Captain pulled along your channel.

Back to that bizarre, mirror-like synchronicity again as one pulled as the other pushed along you. It was huge, intrusive and all you could focus on was the feel of them inside you. Impossible. Overwhelming. Spreading and stretching you and widening your channel in a way you could never have imagined. And then you came, shaking and moaning, hands blindly grabbing for one of your husbands, then the other as they drew you into another orgasm, then another, and on the fourth as you were crying, overwhelmed and your body coming without your brain along for the ride, they came, too. The heat surging through you and making you swell and feel unbearably stuffed. You fell asleep as both of your husbands were crooning words of love and approval, still inside you. That you were their good girl. So strong and brave.

Nine months later…

“Oh, doll…” Bucky’s lips moved along your sweaty forehead and Steve’s cool hand smoothed your hair back. “We’re so proud of you, little mama. So strong.”

You weren’t sure when the lactation coach had cheerfully shown you the “football hold” if you’d be able to hold both wriggling babies as they fed from you, but your husbands had helped you settle your exhausted arms, braced with pillows and giving you sips of water and encouragement as their babies’ tiny, squalling mouths searched until finding a nipple, greedily latching on.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steve’s voice trembled - actually trembled as he stroked the back of your head. “We had to give you blood again, you lost so much…”

You could feel the prickles of nerve endings responding to the eager little mouths attached to you, your daughters. Their daughters. Resting your hot cheek in his huge, comforting palm, you sighed. Never while arguing in court like the pretty barracuda no one ever expected you to be could you have believed that one day, you would be surrounded by two huge men. Your husbands. Your newborn’s fathers. And watching tears roll down bearded cheeks, you didn’t even want to murder them. It was going to be okay. You could do this.

**“So pretty, my doll” - “Так мило, моя кукла”**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Your End of the Bargain](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23378956) by [EmeraldRoseQuartz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldRoseQuartz/pseuds/EmeraldRoseQuartz)




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